At her lowered tone, Milbanke coloured, and took a step forward.
"Clodagh," he began, with a flash of courage, "I think you might allow me to be more kind to you than you do. I think I might give you more protection. And it has occurred to me that perhaps we ought to announce our—our engagement——"
He halted nervously.
As soon as he had begun to speak, Clodagh had walked away from him across the room; and now she stood by the mantelpiece looking down steadily into the fire.
"Do you agree with me?" he asked, moving nervously towards her.
There was an embarrassed silence. And in his perturbation he glanced from her bent head to the picture above the chimneypiece from which Anthony Asshlin's ardent face showed out a vague patch of colour against its black background.
"Clodagh," he said suddenly, "allow me to tell Mrs. Asshlin that you have promised to marry me."
But still Clodagh did not answer; still she stood gazing enigmatically into the burning logs, her slight figure and warm youthful face fitfully lighted by the capricious, spurting flames.
"Clodagh!" he exclaimed. And there was a note of uneasiness in his low, deprecating voice.
Then at last she turned, and their eyes met.